“Any speak Englis’?—America—United States?”
In an instant we were surrounded by the stern-visaged natives, while one of them, a tall, powerful fellow and evidently a chief, stepped close to the machine and answered in a quiet voice:
“I the English speak.”
“Very good,” said Bry. “I am great chief of Tayakoo. My name is Honorable Bryonia. Here is my brother, also great chief of Tayakoo—he name Senator Nux. We come to visit the chiefs and great king of the San Blas. Then, say to me, oh, Chief, are we welcome? Are we all brothers?”
I thought this was a very good introduction. But the chief glanced at me and at Moit, frowning darkly, and asked:
“Who the white men? What bring them here?”
“You speak about our slaves? Bah! Have my brothers of San Blas, then, no slaves to do their work?”
The chief considered a moment.
“Where you get white slaves?” he questioned, suspiciously.
“Stan’ up, Dunc!” said Bry, giving the inventor a vicious kick that made him howl. “Where we get you, heh?”